To tell you a bit about myself, rather than to convince you, growing up, I’d give the other kids I played with on the merry-go-round at the park just up the street, a name a lot more masculine than the one I was handed. It never felt wrong or disapproving. In fact, Ive never felt most like myself. Swimming without a top and navy blue, shark graphic swim trunks, flag football, that mostly turned into tackle in the front yard, and the cologne in the glass wardrobe of my grandfathers bedroom, just at the right height. I have always been me.

This week, I got partially approved for an affirming surgery i’ve looked forward to since the discomfort i’ve carried in my body following 7th grade. Not knowing the possibility with the decline in safety of this country, and the way I am particularly perceived as a threat to it, I am privileged beyond belief. With support, with community, and certainly with medical care.

My birthday is on the 5th of this month (September), and surgery will be following it within two weeks. I’ve had plenty of my chosen loved ones offer me the space to provide a list of gifts I’d like this year, and with every request, I denied their offer. Instead, I’ve led them an offer to save the money they’d spend materialistically, as a means towards financial help for the month I will be out of work following surgery. A body worth living through with those I love to support me by my side, is more than I am already able to vulnerably ask for in this life time.

For my birthday this year, I am estimating medical cost, rent/utilities, and hospital fees, as an ask for a gift from friends and chosen family.

My beautiful, selfless girlfriend, who will be taking care of me during the month (and likely taking out of work on necessary surgery/recovery dates), will also be upholding finances for our home while I am on rest. This would be aid in place of me for the month. I truthfully couldn’t ask for better community.

With love,

Devyn.